


to settle my wandering heart

by MatildaSwan



Category: Holby City
Genre: F/F, Vicar of Dibley AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:42:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22727086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MatildaSwan/pseuds/MatildaSwan
Summary: As Serena is about to find out, it's hard to resist getting swept off your feet by a handsome stranger.Especially when they turn up at your doorstep with surprise tiramisu.
Relationships: Serena Campbell/Bernie Wolfe
Comments: 16
Kudos: 95





	to settle my wandering heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Regency](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Regency/gifts).



> I’ve never adapted existing media for an au before, and I’m not entirely sold on the structure as it sits. Also, this is the least Bonnie thing I've ever written - there's no headspace no emotional motivations asides and so. much. dialogue. 
> 
> It's a script I've basically written a script. But it's fun and full of bants, and it's good to explore new things. 
> 
> Also, this is technically a wip, and will be revised at a later date. But I’ve finished enough to constitute a one shot, just in time for a berena valentine's :3

‘Oh!’ Sian exclaims, punctuating her thought with a top up of wine. ‘I forgot to say, saw the new lodger for Sleepy Cottage moving in this afternoon.’

‘Did you?’ 

‘Well, I saw a van out the front and an open door. Unless someone was ransacking the place, I assume that Bernie bloke Fletch sold it to finally managed the trip up here.’

‘It’s about time! He’s been riding on that sale for weeks. Wonder what took so long for them to get up here? I hope it’s not a sign.’

‘Sign?’

’That they’re just another rich Londoner with no respect for country life. Or basic time keeping skills.’ She pauses. ‘Who moves house on a Wednesday, anyway?’

‘Lord knows,’ Sian replies, shaking her head slowly. ‘Let’s just hope he’s not in the middle of a midlife crisis after his wife dumped him for a handyman and he retreated to the countryside to write the memoirs of his tortured existence.’ 

Serena shudders. ‘Quite right. One of those was more than enough.’

They both grimace, sniffing with disdain. 

‘You know, we should go and suss it out. Tonight. Better to rip the bandaid off.’ 

‘We’ve been drinking,’ Serena points out.

‘Psh,’ Sian flaps her hand. ’You’ve had one glass.’

‘One and a half,’ she corrects, fact checking against the half empty bottle on the coffee table.

‘You want a medal?’

‘Don’t be rude.’

Sian smirks. ‘Or what?’

Serena glares at her friend. ‘Oh, stop it.’

Sian pouts, eyes sparkling. ‘Spoilsport.’ 

Serena sticks out her tongue. Them hums thoughtfully. 

‘I suppose I’ll have to welcome them to the village as head of the town council anyway. And if they are here as a weekender with no interest in giving back to the community, it’d be better to tell them to sod off before they’ve gotten settled.’

‘There you go!’ Sian exclaims, already getting to her feet. She downs the last mouthful of her wine and saunters away to get their coats. 

‘Come on,’ she urges, holding her coat out, arms ready to be slipped into. ‘A bit of exercise will do us good.’

‘Will take us past the pub so you can suss out the talent, you mean,’ she quips, closing the front door behind her.

*

It’s a short walk, only a few streets. Past the pub which fails to draw Sian’s attention and they’re right outside. 

Serena knocks brusquely, steps back beside Sian, and waits.

And waits. 

And waits. 

‘Typical,’ Serena hisses, shoving her hands deeper into their pockets. ‘Snotty rich townie, can’t even be bothered to answer the door to us common country folk.’

‘That got your knickers in a twist quickly.’

‘Well the lights are on! They’re clearly home,’ she huffs, stepping towards the door again, raising her arm to knock again. 

It swings open before her fist makes contact and she almost punches them in the face. 

She recovers quickly enough, jerking her hand safety down by her side again, and gapes. 

Because it isn’t some bearded plonker with a beer belly to a slimy git with more money that sense standing in the doorway, but someone tall, lanky, _lithe_ with a halo of golden curls.

And they’re a woman.

‘Hello,’ she says with a smile so bright Serena momentarily forgets how to breathe, how to blink. 

All she can do is stare. 

‘What can I do for you?’ the woman asks, when the silence has dragged on too long. 

‘Oh! Right. We, ah,’ Serena’s shutters, feeling Sian’s curious eye on her shoulder. Take a breath and centres herself, and offers out a hand. ‘I’m Serena Campbell, head the town council. We thought we’d come by and welcome you to our little village.’

‘Oh, that’s very kind of you,’ she replies, like she means it, and takes the offered hand. 

Her grip is solid and firm, a perfect match to Serena’s own. 

‘Come in, come in,’ she urges, turning to lead them through the cottage. ‘Sorry, everything’s a bit of a mess. It’ll take a while to unpack, expect I’ll be living out of boxes for a few days at least,’ she says with a chuckle. 

Serena can’t help grinning back. 

‘Oh, sorry, where are my manners. I’m Bernie.’

‘We know,’ Sian says.

Bernie frowns. 

‘The old owner has been raving about you for weeks.’

‘Small town gossip hard to come by?’

‘Something like that, yes,’ Serena says, a little apologetically.

Sian wanders off to poke around the room, and a lull falls. 

Bernie bounces on her toes.

Serena leans against the arm of a couch.

‘You’ve got a lot of books,’ she says, just to break the silence. 

‘Oh, yes.’ Bernie looks around, then clarifies, ‘Research, for the memoir I’m writing.’

‘God you’re not, are you?’ It falls out of her mouth before she can think; her eyes widen in horror. ‘Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean that. It’s just, we’ve had our fair share of ‘reclusive writers’ in the past and they haven’t always, acclimated to country life very well.’

‘What she means is, they come up here looking for meaning in their otherwise disastrous life, convinced they’re going to be next big thing, before realising none of them have any talent so drink themselves stupid, urinate all over the town statue and then try to set the wishing fountain on fire,’ Sian says with flourish, leaning against the fireplace.

‘Oh, I see,’ Bernie replies slowly, trying not to laugh. ‘And, ah, how did that go, for them?’

‘Not very well,’ Sian clarifies, glibly. ‘It’s full of water, see.’

Serena snorts. 

Bernie barks. 

Laughter echoes around the room.

‘Well, I promise that I shall not try to set the foundation on fire,’ Bernie says, wiping tears from her eyes.

‘That’s a start.’

‘Or any other part of the town.’

Serena smiles. ‘Glad to hear it.’

‘Though I make no promises to avoid a drunk and disorderly,’ she adds, eyes dancing. 

Serena beams. ’Well, we can’t have everything, can we.’

‘I make no promises about avoiding the reclusive writer cliche either,’ Bernie adds solemnly. ‘But I am interested in seeing what the town has to offer.’

‘Actually, I’ve been planning a few things which might interest you,’ Serena starts, before explaining about her new ventures into stimulating the arts.

‘They sound great! Not sure I’ll be able to make it to any this week, but soon. I’m sure I’ve got paints somewhere,’ she mumbles, looking around the room with a tiny frown furrowing her brow. ‘I’ll bring them along once I’ve settled.’

‘You paint?’

‘Hmm, gave it a go the same time I started thinking about writing. Have to admit, collecting books is much easier.’

‘What’s your favourite?’

Bernie hums and aww through half a dozen writers Serena vaguely heard of--she never was one for poetry--before looking at her expectantly. 

‘You?’

‘Mills and Boon.’

They whip around to the figure in the far corner, the one with a suspiciously candlestick shaped something shoved up her left sleeve. 

‘What? I like the sex scenes.’

‘You would,’ Serena huffs, locking eyes with Bernie and knows they’d both forgotten Sian was there.

‘I admit, I don’t mind a bit of pulp every now and then.’ Bernie adds, ‘When I find the right sort of story.’ It looks she’s about to say something else, for a moment, but then she asks, again, ‘And you, Serena?’ 

‘Oh, I dabble here and there, but I always come back to Austin. _Sense and Sensibility_ is probably my favourite. I mean, it’s hard to resist a woman getting swept off her feet by a handsome stranger after a few juicy fistfights and a terrible misunderstanding.’

‘Oh! That ever happened around here? You ever been swept of your feet by a handsome stranger? Some dashing young man, just passing through?’

Serena pauses. ‘A man? No, never.’

Bernie’s brow raises as the distinction. Her eyes light up and she leans a little closer. ‘What about a woman?’

Serena feels her cheeks flush, finds herself whispering, ‘Not yet.’

*

‘Hello, you,’ echoes up the street from behind her.

‘Oh, hello!’ Serena says brightly, and possibly a tad too enthusiastically, if Bernie’s small double take as she draws even with Serena’s elbow is anything to go by. ‘I didn’t expect to see you venturing beyond your castle of boxes for at least a week.’

‘I unpacked the wardrobe. Decided to reward myself. I thought I should have a few changes of clothes on hand before I tackle the rest of the house. Didn’t anticipate the walk-in being _quite_ so deep,’ she says with a frown.

‘We’ve heard about those. The previous owner’s fond of tall tales,’ she clarifies when Bernie blinks at her. ‘Started a town legend about buried treasure in that very walk in. Find any skeletons, perchance?’

Bernie chuckles. ‘No, no, nothing that spooky. Or piratey. There’s a pair of fatigues and a dress uniform that might get used as halloween costumes one day in there now, but that’s all.’

‘Oh, I do love a uniform,’ Serena admits without thinking. Blushes, when she catches Bernie staring at her as they walk side by side. ‘Oh, hush. A girl’s allowed a few fantasies.’

‘Fantasies, is it?’

‘Something about that air of discipline,’ she says, oozing confidence in a desperate bid to cover the butterflies holding her stomach hostage. ‘I find that very appealing.’

’I’ll keep that in mind,’ Bernie whispers, her eyes dark and smouldering.

Serena almost trips over her feet. 

Bernie’s hand is on her elbow in an instant, thought, and Serena quickly finds her feet. 

Physically, at least. Because the easy banter stumbles to a halt; what was once a rather delicious tension quickly becomes nerves as they reach the crossroads. 

‘I’m heading this way,’ Serena says with a jerk of her head.

‘I’m,’ Bernie adds with a flap of her hands in the other direction. 

‘So, goodbye!’ she says, about to turn tail and run, when Bernie interrupts. 

‘Actually! Ah, would you mind. I mean,’ she stammers, eyes darting from left to right till they settle on Serena’s face, now turned towards her. ‘You’re really the only person I know around here, and I was wondering if you’d like to get dinner. Tonight?’ She nibbles on her bottom lip, then whispers, ‘I’d like to get to know you better.’ 

‘I’d like that, too,’ Serena says, tingling all the way down to her toes. 

*

‘So what brought to you to this neck of the woods?’ Serena asks, tearing a piece of garlic bread in half before looking over the table at Bernie. She nibbles on a corner, thinking the candle light makes her dark eyes shine gold. 

‘Peace and quiet,’ Bernie replies, after mulling it over for a moment.

’Oh, good. You’ve definitely come to the right place,’ Serena says with a laugh. ‘We’re far from the top of Excitement Weekly at the best of time, I’m afraid.’ 

‘I think I’ve had my fill of excitement, actually,’ Bernie replies, then lapses into silence. 

It stretches, as something plays out behind those dark eyes, something that tugs at Serena’s stomach.

She’s about to prod a little further, when Bernie beats her to it. 

‘I served in the middle east, Iraq and Afghanistan. I was offered a ten year commission, first posting was supposed to be Kabul.’ She stops, takes a deep breath. ‘Then I got blown up.’

Serena gapes, mind frozen. Then whirling a thousand questions and no clue where to start. 

She blinks once. And a few times more. Clears her throat for good measure.

‘Well,’ she starts, finding her voice at last. **'** I can see why you’d be after some down time, after all that.’

Bernie chuckles. ‘Yes, quite.’

She smiles, and Serena smiles, and neither of them know what to say. 

Serena shuffles through the queries racing through her mind, trying to find one that’s actually appropriate to a dinner date atmosphere, and turns up nothing. 

She’s about the ask something innate, like how the food tastes, when Bernie, once again, steps into to save a damsel in distress. 

‘I think it’ll be good for me, the change of pace. I’m not very good at sitting around, but I think it’s wise? And having a few projects to work on helps. And who knows, I might even convince the children to come visit. I expect some grovelling on my part will need to happen first. They weren’t very impressed with my last girlfriend,’ she explains when she catches Serena’s raised eyebrow. ‘In hindsight, I can’t blame them. She was a bit young to handle dating someone with children.’

‘Cradle snatcher, aye?’ Serena teases, instead of screaming any of the new half a dozen questions just added to the already long list. 

Bernie snorts. ‘A decade is hardly cradle snatching, not when you’re our age. But it has made me a bit wary of dating someone younger, for a while at least. I’d rather look for someone my own age. An equal,’ she says, looking meaningfully at Serena. 

Butterflies beat around her stomach and she reaches for wine glass, doesn’t miss the way Bernie’s eyes are drawn to her fingers. It does a lot to quash the butterflies deep down; she takes a large mouthful to drown the rest.

‘Know anyone?’ she purrs, playing with the glass stem.

‘I do,’ Bernie says, eyes dancing in the candle light. ‘I haven’t known her very long, but I really like her.’

‘Have you told her?’

‘Not yet,’ Bernie replies, corner of her mouth curling. ‘Don’t want to rush things. But I’m sure she feels the same.’

‘I think so, too,’ Serena assures her, beaming right back. 

*

‘This one’s me,’ Serena says regretfully, bringing their post date stroll to an end.

‘We’re practically neighbours,’ Bernie muses as they crunch over the gravel to stop at Serena’s front door.

‘Everyone in the place is,’ she says as she rummages for her keys. ‘It’s what comes with being such a small village.’ 

She slips her key into the lock, and pauses: her own desire to pull Bernie inside and ravish her warring with Bernie’s wish to take things slow. 

The sensible, boring plan wins. 

And yet, she lingers. Turns to face Bernie, porch light haloing around her head. 

‘I had a lovely time tonight,’ she says softly, barely breaking the evening quiet.

‘So did I,’ Bernie agrees, eyes lighting up the dark. ’Would you like to do it again?’

‘Yes, please. Soon?’ she adds, reaching out to brush her fingers along Bernie’s forearm. 

‘Absolutely,’ she promises. Pauses, her own reluctance to leave seemingly matching Serena’s. Then, she leans a little closer. ‘May I offer you a goodnight kiss?’

Serena swats her shoulder. ‘You’re the one who didn’t want to rush.’ 

Bernie pouts; it’s so sweet she almost loses her resolve. 

‘Third date.’

Bernie frowns. ‘Hm?’

‘You’ll get a kiss on the third date.’ She leans close, whispers in her ear. ‘With tongue.’

Bernie breathes out a shudder and a shiver runs up Serena's spine. She pulls back and gazes at Bernie, laugh lines deep around her eyes. 

‘Well then,’ she says, reaching out to take Serena’s hand, raising it to her lips. ‘I’ll see you, very soon,’ she promises, sealing it with a kiss against her knuckles.

Serena squeaks out a hasty goodbye. Rushes inside before she faints at the chivalry, door slamming behind her. 

Tips her head back against the wood, giddy tip to toe, and sighs. 

*

‘What’s up?’ Bernie prompts, after ushering an irate Serena into the pub and plonking a large glass of red in front of her. 

‘You know that bookclub I set up?’

Bernie hums, nodding. 

‘The first one was this afternoon, just before I bumped into you. And can you believe, after all the planning and organising and effort I made in getting everyone copies, that no one had even read it!’

‘Oh, Serena. I’m sorry.’

 **‘** And they ate all the nice biscuits!’ Serena huffs. ‘Serves me right, putting out snacks at the beginning of the session. Won’t be doing that again.’

’So there will be another one?’

‘Oh, I suppose. We did get a good chat in about _Jill’s Gymkhana_ by the end of it.’

‘ _Jill’s Gymkhana_?’

‘It was the only book we’d all read.’

‘I see,’ Bernie says, barely suppressed laugher lighting up her voice. 

‘What? It was Elinor’s favourite during her pony phase.’

‘Fair enough,’ Bernie mumbles around the rim of her glass. ‘So what did you think?’

‘What?’ Serena asks, pulling herself out of her huff to blink at Bernie.

‘About the book. What did you think?

‘Oh,’ Serena stammers, hand fluttering to the pendant around her neck.

‘You haven’t read it, have you?’ Bernie asks, already sure of the answer. 

‘I’ve been busy organising!’ Serena blusters, almost throwing up her hands. 

Bernie honks, a throaty laugh that makes her whole body shine. Serena can’t help staring, anger long forgotten. 

‘You’re wonderful,’ Bernie breathes, smiling so bright Serena has to blink. ‘You really are.’

She finishes the last of her wine, puts the empty glass down gently on a coaster. Looks over at Serena, regret etched on her face. 

‘Best get back. More boxes to unpack.’ She gets to her feet, then pauses, gazing down through her messy fringe. 'And just so you know, I’m classing this as a second date.’

‘Just one more to go, then,’ Serena replies wistfully.

‘I look forward to it.’

Serena sighs. ‘Me to.’

*

‘I didn’t expect to see you here,’ Serena exclaims, full of delight. Surprise, too, seeing Bernie so well prepared for an afternoon of painting, brushes and easel and all. 

’Found my paints, as promised. And I thought you could use the support,’ she adds with a wink. 

Serena blushes. ‘I’m glad you’re here.’ 

‘So am I,’ she says, low and meaningful, her eyes firmly on Serena. Serena blinks against the weight of it, and the moment breaks. Bernie turns away, takes to the view. ‘And I’ve been wanting to see this, too. Isn’t it beautiful?’

‘Yes,’ Serena whispers, not taking her eyes off Bernie. ‘Very beautiful.’

The painting is, too, when she sees an afternoon of work on Bernie’s canvas.

‘Bernie,’ she breathes, itching to reach out and touch the light streaming halfway down the hillside. ‘This is incredible.’ 

‘It’s not finished yet,’ Bernie points out. 

‘Still beautiful.’

She ignores the pull to stay by her side, stepping away to let her work. Doesn’t give in to the pull until she notices Bernie’s struggling to balance her canvas and easel, the last of the group to pack up.

‘Do you need a hand carrying?’

‘Could you?’ she asks, only a little reluctantly. ‘I think I overdid it, with the walk up and everything.’

‘Of course,’ she says, rushing to lighten some of Bernie’s load, eyeing her warily.

‘I’ll be fine once I’ve had a stretch and a lie down I promise.’

‘Okay,’ she says softly. ‘We’ll take the shortcut, then. Get you home quicker.’

‘There’s a shortcut?’ Bernie asks incredulously. Serena nods and Bernie huffs. ‘Here’s to local knowledge. 

They chat as they wander along the meadow, sharing more snippets of the lives that drew them both to the sleepy little village, only stopping to draw breath before jumping the fence along the path leading them into town and right up to Bernie’s front door.

‘You know,’ Bernie says, leaning the easel against the door to take her bag of supplies from Serena. ‘This could be classed as a date.’

‘Psh!’ Serena flaps. ‘This is, at most, half a date.’

‘Half a date it is, then,’ Bernie smirks, kicking the door open and dropping everyone inside. 

‘I walked right into that one, didn’t I?’ she asks, lingering on the doorstep, not looking the least put out.

Bernie hums noncommittally, looking smug as she leans against her open door. 

‘Well, here’s hoping the second half comes along soon. Or I’ll be forced to void it from your total,’ she adds in answer to Bernie’s questioning frown.

‘Will you now? According to whose rules?

‘Mine,’ Serena replies primly. ‘The ones I just decide. Best get a wriggle on, wouldn’t want to lose all your progress. Chop chop,’ she urges, before sauntering away.

*

‘When I said soon I didn’t actually mean today.’

‘Aren’t you happy to see me?’

‘You know I am,’ she admits, stepping aside to let Bernie in, eyeing the bags hanging from her hands with curiosity. 

‘I bought dinner,’ Bernie says, preening a little as she puts the food on the coffee table while Serena gets plates. ‘And dessert,’ she adds smugly, smirking at Serena’s delighted face.

‘ _Wonderful_ ,’ she says, already opening the bags to inspect. Asks anyway, ‘What did you bring?’

‘Well,’ Bernie whispers as she stands behind Serena, reaching around either side of her to offer things up in order. ‘Gelato, because who could resist. And tiramisu, because it’s your favourite.’

Serena’s heart hammers in her chest, the realisation that Bernie not only noticed her preferences but remembered them rushing straight to her head. 

She turns, conveniently in Bernie’s arm, and slides her own around Bernie’s shoulders. 

‘Thank you,’ she whispers, before slanting her lips over Bernie’s, licking into the seam of her mouth. 

She pulls back, some time later. Delights in her satisfied smile, the glazing of her eyes when she finally manages to open them.

Bernie swallows, a few times, before she finally manages to speak, ‘I take it this was enough to make up that half a date?’

‘Oh, this is more than enough. In fact, I think this puts you at three and half dates. Maybe even four, if you let me have the tiramisu _and_ the hazelnut gelato.’ 

Bernie’s eyes darken, the hands around Serena’s waist pulling her closer. ‘And what do I get on a fourth date?’

‘Well, I’m not really up on my bases,’ she says, putting a palm against Bernie’s shoulder and pushing her towards the sofa. ‘But I think you might be in with a chance at a home run.’

Bernie falls willingly onto the cushions, opening her arms as Serena slides right into her lap, bringing their bodies flush as they kiss and kiss and _kiss_. 


End file.
